It'll never happen to me...

Yes, I know it looks like I'm trying to pose with Angelina Jolie lips, and the sultry half-closed eyes, but really this is the only way I can hold my face at the moment. And then there's the incrediblely sexy bald spot on the back of my head where they had to shave me to give me stitches. I am also sporting the innocuous "pirate eye" that Garrett loves to tease me about. Awesome. Hurray for Paris glamour.

So whats the story morning glory? Well, basically I was walking home from a the nearest bus stop last night on my street at about 2am (I was coming home from a fete). I've walked this street already a dozen times by myself in the middle of the night and because it is really super well lit and there's usually people around, I always have felt safe. Plus Paris in general is a very safe city. Well, at least I thought so.

Anyway, I'm on my block when I hear running footsteps behind me. I turn and two guys jump me a try to take my purse. I try to hold onto it for dear life. Not only do I have my life inside - credit cards, license, glasses, keys, loreal lipgloss - but its my favorite beautiful Coach purse given to me for graduation from my siblings. So, anyway, I'm freaking putting up a fight. But there were two of them and they knocked me down and were kicking me and punching me and stuff as they were still going for the purse. I was trying to scream, but one of the guys had his hands around my throat so I couldn't make a sound except for the thrashing about of my high heels boots as I tried to kick them hard. In the end, they got the Coach purse and all my stuff inside. I got away with my umbrella (yay!) and blood gushing down my torso as I scream my head off and try to run after them. A guy who lives on my block heard me and tried to chase the guys, but they were too far. He helped me walk to my door and he called the police and waited with me while they came. It was very good Samaritan bible story turned tragically personal. Here I am beaten and left bloody in the street (well, technically it was a gutter on the side of the street. can't wait to see what diseases I contract from Paris-gutter-water) and this sweet guy, Guillaume helps me and waits with me. He's the only witness so far. Other than me I guess.

So, we wait for the cops to come. I'm just outside my building where Meredith is sleeping, but they won't let me go up and tell her what's up cause their afraid I'll pass out on the stairs. And its true that I'm trembling pretty bad and my head is killing me (not only from my goose egg and gash on the back of it but also from trying to dredge up very rarely used vocabulary from my internal French dictionary as I explain what happened...words like to grabbed one from behind, to threw one down in icky parisian gutter, to strangle, to scream bloody murder etc). The police think I need to go to the hospital. Neat that my health insurance hasn't kicked in yet. What a mess. So then the firemen come and put me in the ambulance and I tell the policeman "I need my roomate. go get her now". So at least I could have someone who knows me and cares about me and who I can complain to in english about the hour long wait at the emergency room.

After they took care of me at the hospital, we had to go to the commissariat or police station to file a complaint and give my testimony about the incident etc. etc. Yeah, that was fun to do in French with a pounding headache and a split lip and (now encrusted)blood all over me. Charming mademoiselle that I am. So, at about 7am after much pain and many tears, the policemen took us home, I took a shower and watched with dismay as chunks of hair came off in my hands from the bald spot where they had to sew me up. I have 3 stitches (first stitches of my life! first time getting punched in my life. and mugged) and of course a prescription for 17 different kinds of pain killers and a doctors note excusing me from school for a few days. Now its all the administrative crap to deal with; canceling credit cards, getting a new license, getting a new phone, trying to scrape up some of my dignity.

So that's the sale histoire of my night. Needless to say, I will not ever be walking around by myself at night. Its going to take me a while to even be able to go out when its late. Despite my slightly light-hearted description of it all, it was a horrific experience and I'm pretty traumatized. I'm having a hard time of it. Even trying to go to sleep after the looooooong night was nearly impossible because I keep running over it in my head. I don't even want to walk down that street anymore. And its my street. Unavoidable. I feel afraid of the dark. And I realize this all will pass, but right now its all I can think of.